


I'd give you my heart, but I'm afraid it's broken.

by kuriositet



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: yobrothatssick, Hospitals, M/M, Near Death Experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriositet/pseuds/kuriositet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is about to die, and there's only one thing left that he needs to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd give you my heart, but I'm afraid it's broken.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt #26 for the "sick Frank challenge" on [LJ](http://yobrothatssick.livejournal.com/) Beta credit to [happilyappled](http://archiveofourown.org/users/happilyappled).

Frank knows this is it. He knows it because no matter how hard he tries to take a long, deep breath of fresh oxygen, he can't really feel it happening. His lungs are too tired; they're not getting enough fresh blood and oxygen from his heart because his heart is so close to giving up. He knows it's happening, he's been waiting for this moment for years. He's been waiting to die.

At least it doesn't hurt. He's not alone either, his parents and best friends are there, even if his mom and dad are fast asleep on the couch, having been there for the past forty-eight hours straight, and Pedicone just left to get more coffee. Hospital coffee sucked, apparently. Frank isn't allowed to have it himself, but he judges it by the faces Gerard always makes when he drinks it, and there's nothing positive about Gerard's opinion on it. 

Now Gerard hasn't had coffee in a while and it shows. He looks tired, exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes, and his eyelids keep drooping a little with every passing second. Gerard squeezes his hand and Frank tries to smile, but his lips won't move, and Gerard makes a pained expression, leaning forward.

Gerard can tell it's happening too. He sees Frank trying to speak, trying desperately to form words, but he gently shushes him, reaching out to touch Frank's forehead. It's covered in a cold sweat, and Gerard runs his fingers through Frank's hair instead. 

Frank loves it. It feels amazing. It's the best he's felt in ages, and he tries to speak again because he has to tell Gerard. He has to tell Gerard how this feels, how he feels. How he's been feeling all along. 

"Gee, I—" he starts, voice barely a hoarse whisper, but Gerard is right there, leaning in so close, telling him, "Don't Frank, don't speak. You need to save your energy, save your breath." Gerard's voice breaks with the last syllable and their eyes meet, and the utter despair in Gerard's makes Frank wish he hadn't waited so long to say this. He wishes he hadn't waited 'til he was on the brink of blacking out and dying. 

"I'm gonna die, Gee. I—" he starts again, trying to argue, but the sound of the sob Gerard doesn't manage to hold back stops him. Instead, he says, "I love you."

Gerard lets out another sob, unable to hold back at all now because he should have known. Not to mention that he should have told Frank, he should have told him ages ago, because now it's too late and it's all his fault because he is such a fucking moron. He wants to say it; he wants to say it now, but all he gets out is a pathetic plea:

"Frankie, please don't die."

Everything happens in slow motion after that. He hears someone behind him and he turns his head to see one of Frank's doctors, a pretty brunette, and she's grinning. "There's a heart! We've got a heart, a matching heart, right here, in this hospital. They're getting it right now, we need to get you to the OR and get you prepped right now," she all but yells and the words echo in Gerard's ears for a few long moments. Then it's suddenly replaced by a long, monotonous beep.

It takes Gerard longer than it should to realize what it is, and then he's shoved aside and away from the bed as a whole team of doctors and nurses rush into the room. He watches for a few moments as they pull down Frank's gown to uncover his chest; he listens as they speak of things so alien to him that it might as well have been a different language; he watches as they place orange plastic on Frank's chest, and then comes the defibrillator and then—"Clear!"—he watches as Frank's body convulses as the shock goes through it. Still, the long, never ending beep goes on.

"Sir, you can't be in here, you have to leave," a nurse says, tugging on his shoulder. She's pretty, with red hair and kind eyes that are full of understanding as she leads him out into the corridor where Frank's parents and Pedicone are already waiting.

He just blinks stupidly at them for a moment, until Pedicone takes a step forward and wraps him up in a tight embrace. "They found him a heart," Gerard whispers. "They found him a heart."

"I know," Pedicone whispers back, but no, he doesn't, he has no idea, Gerard thinks.

"He told me he loves me, and they found him a heart, and then—" he chokes on a sob just as Pedicone goes stiff and says, unreasonably loud, as if he thinks he hasn't heard Gerard right, "He what?"

Before Gerard can repeat himself they spring apart as they hear the yelling and almost panic from inside Frank's room enter the hallway as they roll his bed out, rushing him to the OR just like the doctor had told them. The doctors don't tell them anything now, or at least Gerard doesn't think they do, but it's all a blur of words he doesn't quite hear or understand and confusion.

"He's not dead," Pedicone whispers in relief next to him. "He's still alive."

Gerard doesn't think before he bursts out "I have to go," but he knows as soon as he's said it that it's true. He can't be here right now, he just can't. He knows he'll probably regret it one day, but right now he's just feeling too many things at once and being here, waiting, when Frank is somewhere else with his chest cracked open possibly dying on the table...

"What? Gee, you can't just go." Pedicone gives him a pleading look, and he can feel Frank's parents looking at him as well. "He told you he loves you. That's a good thing, right?" He steps in closer again, rubbing Gerard's shoulders and then raising a hand to wipe away tears Gerard's not aware that he's even shed. 

"That's the thing. He only told me because he thought he was going to die." Pedicone doesn't say anything, but Gerard can see the unspoken "Oh," on his face. "I can't be here. If he dies, or if he doesn't... I just can't do it. I'm sorry. I can't."

With that, he turns on his heel and walks out, trying desperately not to think about his best friend possibly dying in somewhere in this hospital.

*

When Frank comes to, he's pretty surprised, to be honest. Not by what he sees or anything, but just at the mere fact that he is alive, and that for the first time in years he actually feels it. He feels alive. He forces his eyes open and sees Pedicone half asleep in a chair on his left side, and his mom definitely asleep in a chair on his right side.

"Hey," he croaks out, and Pedicone looks up immediately. "What happened? Where's Gerard?" He coughs a little and Pedicone gives him some water. 

"They found you a heart." Pedicone grins.

"They did? How? When? When are they operating? I was practically dead, and I told Gerard—" He stops talking as the memories come flooding back. Gerard's heartbroken face, his gentle fingers combing through Frank's hair, the way his eyes widened as Frank told him. 

"They already did the surgery. You coded and they had to rush you there. It's a miracle you're alive," Pedicone says, reaching for Frank's hand and giving it a squeeze. 

It makes sense that Frank has already gotten the new heart. He should have realized it himself. The way he feels, the strength he feels is something he hasn't felt since before he started to get sick. He has a new heart. He's still alive. 

"Where's Gee?" he asks again, and Pedicone gets this sad look on his face. "Where is he? I have to see him. I told him. I told him I love him."

"Frank," Pedicone starts, using the exact same tone of voice as doctors do when they're telling you bad news. He knows because he's heard it too many times, like when they told him the problem with his heart couldn't be fixed, that he needed a new one, that even if they got him on the transplant list it might take too long for him to get a heart because of his rare blood type. 

"Where is he?" he demands, and Pedicone sighs.

"He's not here. I'm sorry, Frank." Gerard had left. Gerard had left while Frank was in surgery, possibly dying, and not because he had to, Frank knows that He knows that Gerard's been using his vacations days to stay in the hospital with Frank, that he's been here every day for that last couple of weeks, but now he's not here. 

"He left?" he whispers, not bothering to wipe away the hot tears running down his cheeks. "He left because I told him." Pedicone doesn't say anything, but it's okay. He doesn't need to. "He left."

*

A month later, Frank has been out of the hospital for a while, but he still hasn't seen Gerard. Gerard hasn't been in touch once, and because Gerard hasn't contacted Frank, Frank refuses to go after Gerard. Pedicone is caught in the middle of it all, but Frank won't feel sympathy for him because Pedicone keeps saying that Gerard reacting the way he did, even if he might return Frank's feelings, is completely normal.

"How is walking out on someone you love dying, normal?" Frank yells at him when he brings it up for the umpteenth time. "I told him I love him, it's not like I asked him to marry me or anything. But he still took off and hasn't even tried to see me. I think it's pretty obvious how he feels."

"Well, answer me this, Frank. Why did you tell him? You've known each other since High School. That's ten years. I'm assuming you've been in love for him for quite some time now. Why did you tell him now?"

Frank sighs. The problem is that he hasn't been in love with Gerard for very long. A few years yeah, but just after he realized that he wanted Gerard to be something more than just his best friend, the heart problems started and he didn't want to weigh Gerard down with a dying boyfriend. Gerard deserved better than that. He deserves better. 

"I had to tell him before I died."

"Exactly. You only told him because you were sure you were dying, which you actually did for a minute or so, in front of him. How do you think that made him feel? And then, all of a sudden you weren't dead, and he had to face the idea that maybe you were only saying it for him, or because you were dying and that if you survived you wouldn't mean it anymore."

"I wouldn't! He knows me, I wouldn't do that."

"He's still scared, though, and would rather hold on to the memory of you saying you love him and dying than having to face you coming back and not meaning it."

"And what do you want me to fucking do about it? He's the one with the fucking problem. He's the one who left."

"Just fucking go over there and tell him that you still mean it. Tell him what you just told me about why you didn't tell him before. Fucking hell, you have the right to ask him the same question. Ask him why he never told you."

"I don't even know for sure that he does love me back."

"Do you seriously think he'd react this way if he didn't?" Pedicone asked, making Frank wonder when he became so reasonable and smart.

"No. No, I don't."

*

Gerard has just gotten home from a meeting with his editor and is in the middle of making coffee when there's a knock on the door. He figures it's probably Pedicone since Mikey is in New York and they are the only two people who ever drop by without calling first, at least that's how it's been lately.

It isn't Pedicone, though, but Frank, who Gerard hasn't seen since he was carted off in a hurry to an OR to have his heart replaced with someone else's. He looks amazing, with color in his cheeks that hasn't been there in what must be years; his lips are red and full and his eyes are bright and awake. 

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Frank says softly, and Gerard shuts his mouth which he wasn't even aware he had opened. "I'm not," he adds when Gerard fails to respond in any way that isn't staring, blinking and gaping. 

"I know," Gerard finally whispers. "I know you made it. Pedicone told me. He called me the minute you were out of surgery and asked me to come, but I just couldn't." Frank's face falls. "Do you wanna come in? I was just making coffee." Frank nods and steps inside, and Gerard walks behind him into the kitchen where Frank leans against the counter as Gerard starts the coffee machine. 

"It's been a month," Frank says, staring at him but Gerard keeps his eyes down. "Why haven't you come to see me? Why haven't you called? I understand that you were freaked out in the beginning, but it's been a month now, Gee. I miss you."

"You didn't come to see me, either."

"I wanted to give you space. When you didn't even want to stay at the hospital or see me after the surgery, I thought it was because you didn't want anything to do with me, that you hate me because of what I said, but then Pedicone said some things that have led me to believe there's more to it."

"There isn't, though," Gerard says, surprising himself with how strong his voice is as he looks up at Frank. "I did hate you for saying it. I still do." Frank looks heartbroken at the words. "You don't say something like that when you're about to die. It makes it meaningless."

"How can you call that meaningless? I wanted you to know. I needed you to know how I felt."

"And what the fuck was I supposed to do with that knowledge after you were gone? Did you ever think about that? I've loved you for years, Frank, but as long as you've been sick it didn't matter if you felt the same because if I didn't know, I wouldn't have to lose you like that. But then to find out just at the end that if I had been brave enough, we could have had something, that's not fair."

"But I didn't die, Gee. I survived, and now we can have something." Before Gerard can stop him, Frank has squeezed himself in between Gerard and the counter, and with his fingertips light on Gerard's face he reaches up and places his open mouth on top of Gerard's in a not quite kiss.

"You don't get it, Frank. You don't get why I left. I didn't leave when I thought you were dead. I left because I thought you would survive." He breaks away and tries to take a step forward, but Frank clutches his waist and keeps him just where he is. 

"What do you mean?"

"Saying that you love someone when you're dying makes it... not real. You're not saying it because you love the person, you're saying it because you're dying, and often it will turn out to be an exaggeration. So when you said it I didn't think you meant it, and when you had a chance at surviving, I couldn't face the idea of you changing your mind and taking it back."

"You really think that's what I would do? You thought that's what I was going to do the next time I saw you? You've known me for over ten years, Gee, and that's what you think of me?" Gerard's at a loss for words, Frank looks so devastated. "I've loved you for ages, Gerard, since just before I was sick and I wanted to tell you so many times because I was sure you felt the same, but I didn't want you to build your life around some sickly guy that might need help and care for the rest of his life. I didn't want to ruin your life, or be in way. I could have said it at any time, I could have. And I would have if you had said it."

"Frankie..."

"I love you, Gerard. I love you, and I know you love me, and I'm not gonna let you ruin this by staying upset about how I was a moron while I was on my deathbed. I know it was awful to just drop it like that, but the idea of you not knowing was so much worse."

Frank grabs his face and kisses him then, and Gerard kisses back before he knows what he's doing. It's slow, but hot and wet and Frank's fingertips are so gentle on his face, holding him so carefully in place as Gerard's hands find his waist. 

"You don't get to hate me for wanting you to know. You haven't been in that position. You don't know what it's like to be dying and taking this big, important secret with you to the grave. I couldn't do that." He presses his forehead against Gerard's.

"I never hated you," Gerard whispers. "I'm just scared. I'm scared to see things change."

"Then we'll take it slow. Baby steps," Frank promises, and there's nothing else for Gerard to do but to kiss him again, and again and again. Frank's arms wind tight around his neck, and they're so close it should be awkward, but it's not. 

Gerard has thought about this, but not as much as he would have liked. It was just so weird to fantasize about Frank when he'd go and visit him later and find him pale and weak in bed, and it just made him feel bad because he figured that Frank was too weak to jerk himself off even if he wanted to. His poor heart and circulation probably even made it nearly impossible to get it up. 

If it ever had been a problem, Gerard is happy to discover now that it must have gone with the old heart, because Frank is having no trouble at all getting hard as he humps Gerard's thigh. "Oh god, I'm sorry," Frank pants with a nervous giggle against Gerard's cheek. "It's just that, it's been so long since—"

"It's okay," Gerard murmurs back as he moves his hands to work on Frank's fly, trying to get at Frank's cock. "At least you have a viable excuse for why you haven't had sex in years."

Frank laughs, and then he moans because Gerard shoved his hand down Frank's boxers and wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving a firm squeeze. "Oh god," he gasps, and it sounds almost pained, as if Frank really is doing his best not to come right this fucking second.

Gerard uses his free hand to shove Frank's jeans and boxers down from his hips to his thighs, before sliding down to his knees. He doesn't hesitate before taking Frank in his mouth, swallowing him down and moaning as Frank's fingers slide through his hair, fingernails scraping his scalp. Gerard doesn't think he's ever heard anyone moan the way Frank does, loud and real, like it's ripped out of him and he just can't control himself. His hips are moving against Gerard's hands, every breath is a gasp and his cock is hot and hard and feels just right in Gerard's mouth, hitting the back of his throat. 

Gerard moans around him one more time and that does it for Frank, and he's coming hard and fast and Gerard tries his best to swallow without choking because he doesn't want to pull off, not yet. "Oh god, oh fuck, Gee, oh my god."

Gerard licks his lips as he pulls off and stands up again. He tugs Frank's jeans back up, and then Frank's hands on his belt, tugging it loose as he licks into his mouth. "Frankie, wait, let's—" Frank interrupts him with his tongue in Gerard's mouth again, pressing two fingers hard against his cock through the thick denim of his jeans. "Bedroom," he chokes out, and Frank is nodding and tugging him along down the hall within seconds. 

Seeing Frank like this, all energetic and needy and demanding is the strangest thing ever, because for the past three or four years he's been too weak to leave the house most days, too weak to leave the bed on some. Now he's pushing Gerard down on the bed, though, tugging his pants off before stopping to remove all of his own clothes as Gerard strips off his own shirt. 

"God, you're gorgeous," he groans against Gerard's lips as he climbs onto the bed, his naked body hot and gorgeous and perfect against Gerard's. He licks a long stripe from Gerard's ear down over his collarbone to his chest. He teases one nipple with his tongue and the other with his thumb and fore finger and Gerard keens and arches against him. 

His left hand stays where it is on Gerard's chest, but his mouth wanders down, down past his navel, past his hips and cock, only to lick the inside of his thigh, all the way from the joint of his hip to his knee. His hands move down to stop Gerard's hips from bucking too much, and Gerard chances a glance down and it looks fucking obscene, with his cock standing up fucking hard and ready, and Frank working on what's going to be a monster hickey on the inside of his thigh. 

"Frankie, please." Frank looks up at him, eyes dark and lips slick with spit, parted open and delicious, and then he just leans forward and closes his mouth around the head of Gerard's cock. He arches off the bed; he can't help it, but Frank is stronger than he seems and holds his hips pinned to the bed as he sucks him hot and fast and sloppy. He feels moans vibrating around him every now and then as Frank bobs his head up and down at a ridiculous pace, but what pushes him over the edge is the realization that Frank is hard again. He's rutting against the bed, thrusting against the rough sheets until Gerard finally comes and he dares move one of his hands to get himself off. 

He moans, loud and broken groans into the joint of Gerard's hip, drooling a little, but Gerard doesn't care because he can see when Frank's body tenses up for a long moment before relaxing again. Frank collapses with his head still on Gerard's crotch and Gerard lets him stay down there until they've both recovered.

"Hey, come here," he says after a few minutes, tugging on Frank's shoulders and Frank goes easily, crawling back up until their lips meet and Gerard can taste himself. Frank slumps to the side and lies on his side next to Gerard, elbow supporting his head. 

That's when Gerard first notices the long, still raised and vivid scar in the center of his chest, just over his heart. He feels like he should say something, he can tell Frank is expecting him to say something, but he doesn't know what, so he just raises a hand and traces it with a finger. "I'm glad you didn't die."

Frank smiles and takes his hand, holding it to his chest, pressing it close so that he can feel his heart. His new heart. "I know. Me too." Frank giggles softly. "I'm really glad I didn't die."

They lie in silence for a while after that, until Frank breaks it with another giggle. "So, what you said earlier, about not having had sex in years... was that true? I mean, have you really not... done it since you—" He makes a vague hand gesture towards himself. 

"Not since you got sick, no. I mean, it's not because I was in love with you, not like I was saving myself or whatever. I just never had time for it. You know how much I've been working on my books, so in between that and hanging out with you in waiting rooms and in hospital rooms I've just not had the time to make seeing other people a priority. I mean, I don't go out much, and I'm a writer; it's not like I meet a lot of people through work."

"It's okay," Frank laughs. "It's not like I'm complaining. There's nothing to complain about. It's just that I've been wondering, because you're beautiful and you could have anyone you wanted. You used to have everyone you wanted; all you had to do was give them the right kind of look."

"I have everyone I want right here," Gerard insists, feeling like the biggest tool in the world, and Frank must agree because he laughs. 

"Me too," he whispers, and then they're kissing again. 

This is it, Gerard thinks, and he can tell by the sleepy smile on Frank's face that he'd probably agree if he knew what Gerard's thinking. This is where they stop fighting and just go with it. This is where they start a life together, a new life, with a new heart.


End file.
